


When was the first time?

by JoCarthage



Category: Fast and the Furious Series
Genre: Car Sex, F/M, Memory Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-10
Updated: 2013-06-10
Packaged: 2017-12-14 12:29:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/836883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoCarthage/pseuds/JoCarthage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Letty learns how many first she and Dom have shared, standing together in the parking-lot after the race in London. Spoilers for Fast & Furious 6.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When was the first time?

“And let me guess, you saved me?” 

Dom ducked his head, Letty’s sweet-sweat-tang rising off of her, body still cooling from the chase.

“Nah, I was the kid showing off.” Letty’s smirk was just right there, just where it had always been. Dom leaned closer, breath high and tight in his chest.

“This one,” dragging his knuckles against the uncalloused skin of her shoulder. "Boyle Heights. You were fleeing with my little sister Mia. Got trapped in a corner. And you thought it was a good idea to ride your Torino Cobra through a retaining wall."

Letty shuddered and her bare arm brushed Dom, warm and solid in front of her. She braced herself back against the car, hooking her thumb in her jeans and pulling them down on one side to expose a long, thin scar she had always imagined had been the result of a racing wreck. 

“How about this one?”

Dom’s face stilled and softened, and he traced it down, his thumb joining hers on her hip. "That was the last time we were together.” He continued, “In the DR, you wanted to go for a night swim. Cut yourself on a reef. I followed you.” She could see it, him plowing through the waves after her, though she could not remember the feel of the sea. She how fear and determination would cloud his face. 

“I even got the scar to match.” Dom released her hand, revealing his own sliced and healed skin. She sucked in her breath. It drove something into her to imagine someone who would come after her into dark water, that person bleeding on the rocks. Dom was close, so close she could feel it when he breathed, and his hand brushed down her side as he let his shirt fall down.

She gripped his wrist and pulled his hand to her face. He kept his face and body neutral, but didn’t back away. She uncurled his hand and held it against her face.

“And when was the first time you did this?” She asked, staring him in the face.

“The night I crashed into your car. Your arm was dragging, fucked up against your side but you started pulling me out.” She cocked her head. Dom chuckled, “You were calling me a pendejo carbon and a dick who thought he was a chignon but couldn’t control his fucking car.” She nodded.

She moved his hand to the back of her head, letting their fingers mix with her tangled hair. His other hand rose to her waist, thumb grazing the skin below her belly. She moved forward until there was no space between their bodies.

She reached up behind his head and pulled him down, pushing her mouth to his and shocking at the smell of him so close, the feel of her arms so full of him. She pulled away, heart kicking into 3rd gear.

“When was the first time we did that?” She asked, putting a hand to his chest when he ducked in again. She wanted to hear.

He settled his hips a little more closely to hers and rubbed the back of her neck. 

“Like that? Night before my first job. I snuck into your abuela’s, made it to the garage. You were working and I snagged a kiss and ran. I thought I’d die before you saw me again.” He ducked his head, lips just above her shoulder. “You nearly knocked my teeth out when you saw me. Mia had to put you in an arm-lock.” He pushed a kiss into her shoulder.

“Now, one like this,” and he kissed her, tongue and teeth, hands roving over her back, making himself felt all along her body. She gave it right back, nails scraping up his side, under the back of his shirt, down his jeans. 

“That was the kiss I gave you when I found you in the E.R. after Tran and his boys jumped you for your haul.” Letty wanted to ask who Tran was, but was much more interested in Dom’s hand, moving down to brush her breast. She pulled his palm over, feeling her nipples contract with the pressure and massaging touch.

“And when was the first time we did this?” She asked, hands wandering under his shirt and jacket, over the planes and moving muscles of his broad back, fingers pressing lines into him.

“Back of the first rebuilt I did myself, first night I got her to turn over. She couldn’t make it out of the garage, but she purred and we drank wine out of a box and ate chips from the block party.” She hadn’t heard many American cars since she’d joined Shaw’s crew, which was why she found and kept hers together through so many scrapes. But she’d found herself watching videos of Chevvies in her room, just listening to them grumble and roar. She could feel the sound in her bones.

She slipped her hand down the front of his jeans, the edges of his black leather jacket brushing her face. She gripped him, length and girth unfamiliar, but there was something in the sound he made, in the renewed smell coming from him that felt like—

“And this,” she asked, voice light and a little joking, “We do this the first time when you finally got her to ride? We ride her together?” Dom’s hand had been sliding down, fingertips on her underwear but he stopped.

“Nah,” Dom said, hand flat against the round of her belly. “We did this,” fingers sliding down brushing the tips of her hair, “In the penthouse suite of the Ritz Carlton downtown.”

“Yeah?” she said, head tipping forward onto the built muscle of his pecs, arms under his, hand gripping his shoulder while she teased and stroked his cock. 

“Yeah,” he pushed out, hand sliding deeper, touching her wet skin. “I wanted it to be special. I saved my take for months and took you out. We ate at this crazy fancy restaurant and spent the entire time making fun of the people. But when we got to the hotel,” her hand reach down, wrist constricted by his pants, to roll his balls in her palm while his fingers, gentler than she expected, nudged between her folds, pads pressing up and down in small movements.

“You got these big eyes with the view, and we stared at it. There was a hot tub, and,” his finger laid flat against her entrance. She felt gushes of warmth rolling up and down her body, centered on his hand. She wasn’t breathing when he said, “Yeah,” before beginning to slip his finger inside her. It felt like a spark, a stab of pure feelings rushing through her. She wasn’t tense, there was no stretching to do and he brought in another finger, rubbing and twisting lightly inside her. He continued, “There were a lot of first times that night.”

She yanked her hand out of his pants and ripped at his button and fly, bunching the cloth down around his waist. He got her zipper undone and hooked his thumbs in her waistband before pulling it all down. She took him in her hand, and with one hand at his waist edged him in closer, tighter. He slipped a hand in his jacket pocket and pulled out a condom from his wallet. He opened it with one hand and his teeth. He sheathed himself in one motion. She jumped back further onto the hood, anchoring her low heels on the fender and pulling him in.

His head was at her entrance, hand braced behind her, with her fingers tight on his hips. Her cheek was against his chest, and his smell, his breathing, the touch of him against her were everywhere. But she said,

“I don’t remember any of that," and he paused, stilling. “I saw how you ride and I could believe it.” She looked up at him, “But what I know is I only do what I want to, and right now, I want you.” 

She pulled and he sunk into her with a groan, something like relief flooding his face, grinding up against the front of her. She rode him back, leaning forward and then back and pulling him on top of her, getting the angle right, hooking a boot behind his ass and getting him in closer, tighter. He pushed in and pulled out, rubbing against the front of her. She slipped a hand between them and bracketed her clit with her fingers, massaging the filling flesh even as she felt him brushing her from the inside.

She dug her fingers into his shoulders, lifting her hips off the car entirely to get the friction she needed. He tucked his forearm under her shoulders and moved his other hand down to her ass, pulling back until he was nearly out and leaving her hanging for a second before thrusting back in. She mouthed against his chest, got a mouthful of shirt and continued pressing kisses in, finding his nipple with her tongue. 

He set her back down on the hood and slid his hand under her shirts and bra, closing on but not squeezing her nipple. She arched at the tension, the taut-knowing that he would but hadn’t brought the pressure there yet. He pulled back, hovering his mouth near her ear, hips back, only connected by a few square inches of skin.

“Any of this feel familiar?” She grinned into his shirt, and shook her head.

“No,” He tensed, face losing its loose joy. She moved her hand to grip the side of his hand where it centered on, but wasn’t quite squeezing, her nipple. 

“It feels like home.” His face lost its blankness all in a rush and got urgent with need.

“It’s good enough for me,” he said, pushing back in, grinding against her clit, pinching her nipple. His lips on her ear, his cock inside her, his hand on her, she was riding the waves of light and sound, her muscles were jerking and pulling her around, and when she felt him ride to his climax, that much more pressure and friction threw a renewed set of writhings over her body.

Her clit and body continued to quiver around him long after the biggest of the crashing waves had subsided, but he stayed in her, stayed with her, as she rode them all the way to stillness. She began tracing up and down his back, fingers finding edges of scars she hadn’t felt in the dark. She pulled his hips to hers one last time, pulling the last curve of pleasure out of her body and his before letting him slip out of her. 

He kissed her then, unexpectedly, sweetly, tongue dancing against hers and lips soft. She could tell he was smiling and she grinned back, feeling free. She found familiarity in the shape his mouth, and the taste sent recognition of something inside her.

She sat up, and he pulled the condom off, tying it and throwing it under the wheels. She wiped her hands on her jeans and pulled them up, keeping his body between her knees. He ran an appreciative hand down her side and then pulled his own jeans up, tucking himself in. 

An odd bit of silence surrounded them as he moved back and sat beside her on the hood, arm behind her back but not touching. She moved her arm behind his back and leaned in, pressing close.

He ducked his head. “Where are you going after this?” He asked, voice level. She shook her head.

“I can’t go back to Shaw. He’s doesn’t treat his team like family. His code is about precision. I don’t belong with him.” She pulled away, “I don’t know if I belong with you, but I’m willing to try.”

Dom nodded and then gestured to the front seat of her car. It was time to get going. 

“It’s good enough for me.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't even a member of this fandom until seeing Fast 6 this weekend. Twice. I just couldn't get this scene out of my head and it was super hot. This is the first time I've written heterosexual sex, it was an interesting experience.


End file.
